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“Aw,” Mel said, clicking through the pictures. “Look at how gorgeous they are. Aren’t they the cutest? Don’t they look so in love?”
“So in love,” Vanni said. “I never thought I’d see my little brother like this.”
“Where’s the general?” Mel asked.
Vanni frowned and shook her head. “He said you see enough of him all week when we’re in Grants Pass. He said he’d stay home tonight.”
“Really?” Mel questioned. “I haven’t seen much of him at all lately. In fact, I’ve been wondering what he’s been doing with himself. I assumed he’d had Tom and Brenda for dinner every night.”
“Hardly.” Vanni laughed. “If they can escape the parents, I believe they have important making out to do. Gotta cram in as much of that as possible before Tom leaves, you know.”
“I imagine so,” Mel agreed.
The bar had few customers that evening, so Jack divided his time between the pushed-together tables and his favorite spot behind the bar. Paul drifted up to the bar and said, “You seem a little unhappy tonight. Is it because your wife is about to explode?”
“Nah, that’s only part of it. We got a call from Rick a while ago. He’s got ten days of leave coming up—after which he goes to Iraq.”
“Aw, man. You doing okay?”
“Hanging in there. I mean—we went, right? It’s just that Rick…”
“Feels like a son—and it’s different.”
“That’s it, I guess.” Jack had known all along that Rick wouldn’t play it safe—if he was going in, he’d be part of the fight. “At least he’ll be around for a while—I’ll see if some of the boys want to come up, I think.”
“There will be four of us for sure,” Paul said. “How’s Mel doing?”
“She’s nesting,” Jack said. “She’s been after it all day. I’ve heard her talk about her patients and their sudden burst of energy. I saw it today up close and personal. Any second, trust me.”
“Damn, it’ll be great. I’d love to be here for it.”
“You’re really getting into this baby business.…”
“I’m not as far into it as I was,” Paul said. “After talking to Mel, I followed through, had an ultrasound with the woman and the baby’s not mine.” He shook his head. “Something’s wrong with me, man. I’m relieved, but almost sorry—because there’s a baby coming and no man to take care of them. It would almost be better if it had been mine. I’m a sick SOB—you should get more rational friends.”
Jack leveled him with a serious look, a slight frown. “I can think of twenty reasons why you don’t get married if it’s not the right match, but I can’t think of one reason why you’d walk away from your own kid.”
“I offered to help her anyway,” Paul said. Then he shrugged. “She’s a good person. This is gonna be tough on her.”
Jack gave him a half smile. “That doesn’t surprise me, Paul. She take you up on it?”
“Nah. Like I said, she’s a decent person. I’m sorry she’s going through this. Glad Vanni isn’t going to have to put up with it, but sorry—”
But Jack wasn’t listening anymore. His narrowed eyes were on Mel. It was like he sensed it; smelled it. She got up from the table and was heading toward the bathroom back off the kitchen. She paused when she got to the end of the bar, gripped it to stabilize herself, made a noise that only her husband heard, bent slightly over her huge belly and let go with a gush of amniotic fluid that splashed to the floor.
“I knew it,” Jack said, going to her at once.
Silence fell over the dinner crowd. Paul edged back to the table, sat down beside Vanessa and said, “Jack said she’s been nesting all day.”
“Is it happening?” Vanessa asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Paul said.
Jack braced Mel from behind, his hands on her upper arms and asked, “Contraction?”
“Boy howdy,” she said, a little breathless.
“By the time you got to cleaning the bathroom this afternoon, you had completely given yourself away,” he told her.
“Yeah, I suspected this would happen today. But I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t think we have a whole lot of time to screw around. She’s here, Jack.”
He turned her around to face him. “Have you been having contractions all day?”
“Not really. A couple. A few.” She inhaled deeply. “Yeah.”
He lifted her immediately into his arms and started barking orders. “Someone bring Davie to the truck and ride home with us. Preach—call John Stone and tell him it’s now and it’s gonna be quick.” Then he carried Mel out the door to the truck.
Brie quickly picked up her nephew, the diaper bag, and followed. Preacher went to the kitchen to use the phone. Everyone waited tensely. When Preacher came back to the room he said, “John’s on his way.”
More silence lingered. Then Mike said, “What are we waiting for? Let’s wipe up the floor, pack up some stuff and join the party.” Everyone got busy cleaning up, gathering food, drink and even cigars to go to the Sheridan house to stand by for the birth.
Before Jack got Mel home, she was already having hard contractions, two minutes apart. “Breathe,” he was telling her. “Don’t even think about pushing.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“You’d better be. I should’ve known. I should’ve kept you home. I should’ve brought Doc along.”
“Lighten up, it’s only a ten-minute drive. And Doc’s on a call…Uhhhh,” she added, bending over her belly.
“Aw, Melinda…Okay, baby. You just breathe, don’t worry about a thing.”
“I’m not worried,” she rasped out.
When they got to the house, he lifted her out of the truck into his arms and smacked her head on the door frame in the process.
“Ow!”
“Sorry,” he said.
“You’ve done this to me before!” she accused.
“I know. I’ve always been real smooth,” he said, remembering a time long ago, before they were married, when he was carrying her home in much this same manner, though not pregnant, and while his mind was on sex, he damn near gave her a concussion, which sort of precluded any kind of sex. His mind was definitely not on sex right now.
Jack carried Mel to the bedroom while Brie took charge of David. Mel had already prepared the bed with a rubber mattress protector so all that was necessary was helping her to undress and climb in, which Jack did. He added a couple of soft, clean towels under her. Then he went for a flashlight from the kitchen and Brie shouted, “What’s that for?”
“I have to see how close she is,” Jack responded, moving quickly.
“Oh my God,” Brie said. “We need some professionals here!”
“Try Doc Mullins’s pager. The number’s inside the cupboard door. And get out a bottle,” Jack said.
“You’re going to have a drink?” she asked, appalled.
Not a bad idea, he thought. “For Davie. Get him ready for bed and give him his bottle.”
“Oh. Sure,” she said, rattled.
Back in the bedroom he said, “Let’s have a look, honey.”
Mel’s knees came up and Jack clicked on the flashlight, shining it right on her pelvic floor. “Good. I don’t see anything yet.” Then he looked over her knees. “You gonna wait for John this time?”
“With any luck,” she answered breathlessly.
He rolled his eyes. “Where’s your bag?”
“In the truck.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll get it. I’ll wash up. Pant.” And he disappeared again.
He didn’t stop to chat with Brie as he ran through the house, but he noticed her eyes were round and a little scared as he passed her with Mel’s medical bag. He was rushing around like a madman, getting clamps, scissors and suction out of her bag, spreading out towels and baby blankets at the foot of the bed. He shone the flashlight on her again and said, “Pant!” Then he headed for the bathroom, rolled up his sleeves and began to scrub up to his elbows. He’d been down this road before and he wasn’t thrilled about doing it again. Doctors and midwives should deliver babies, not men who knew nothing about it. He’d been lucky once, but there was no guarantee he’d be lucky again. It took him ten minutes to get set up and washed, then he was back at her side, flashlight in hand. He gave a look. “Oh God,” he said.
“She’s crowning,” she confirmed.
“You’re incredible. How can you do this so fast?”
“I don’t have the first idea. I’m a breeder, Doc says.”
“Pant,” he said. “If you push, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You know, you get so pissy…”
“Yeah, I keep trying to avoid this part. All the rest of it, I’m game. I hate doing this. I should’ve had you tested or something—to see why you just dump ’em like this, like there’s nothing to it. Holy shit, Melinda—what if I screw up? Huh? Have you thought of that?”
“Jack,” she said weakly, “you aren’t going to screw up.” And then she was seized by another contraction.
He suddenly realized he was thinking only of himself and he got down on one knee beside the bed, took her hand in both of his and said, “I love you, baby. More than my life—you know that. Right?”
“Not now, Jack,” she whispered. “I’m busy.”
“It’ll be okay.”
“Sure it will,” she said. “Maybe you better pant.”
“I should never have let you do all that cleaning.”
“Shh…Just breathe…”
He heard the sound of voices outside their bedroom. Brie stuck her head in the door. “Need anything?” she asked.
“A basin or bowl. The baby bathtub of warm water. John Stone would be nice.”
“Oh, he’s here. He’s scrubbing up in the kitchen sink.”
“Tell him to get in here now. Tell him she’s here!”
“Not quite here,” Mel said. “But she’s coming…” Mel looked at Jack. She reached out a hand and touched the hair at his temple. “You’re getting a little gray here.”
“Big surprise. I really didn’t know you’d be such a handful.”
“I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“Yeah,” he said in a breath. He leaned down and kissed her brow. “Yeah, baby. You sure are. And you’re a reproductive genius.”
John came into the room, all smiles. “You have a nice little birthing party going on out there, Mel. What’ve we got here?”
“We’re ready,” Jack said, getting up.
John lifted the flashlight with a clean towel, fixed the light on Mel’s pelvic floor and said, “Yup. We’re ready. How about you two? You ready?”
“John, I’m so glad to see you,” Jack said.
“And I’m just so glad to be here. Jack, why don’t you glove up, help me out here.”
“Sure,” he said. “Sure. I can do that. How you doing, baby?”
“I’m ready,” Mel replied.
“Hey, Jack,” John said. “Why don’t you go ahead. I’m right here. Go ahead, bring her out.”
“No way, man,” he said, backing away.
“Come on—you know you want to. Might as well. You did the hard part. You put up with this for nine months.”
